The Lion's Roar
by addielouboo
Summary: Aslan has not been seen in Narnia since it's creation, over five thousand years ago and the world has fallen. King James XXII of Narnia is dying and wishes to see his sons married. Vying with ambition, Duchess Helena of House Pevenise in the country of Spare Oom offers up her most precious commodities: her daughters. AU: Not Related
1. ONE

**CHAPTER ONE**

 **PART ONE: THE BEGINNING**

* * *

 **Briar Castle**

 **Spare Oom**

 **March 21, 4998**

"Come, Lucy!" Lucy's sister called from further in the forest that surrounded the grounds of their mother's large stone castle, that resided deep within the land of Spare Oom, a country that bordered the realm of Narnia. "You have to do better than that!"

Little Lucy grumbled, but gave chase once more, gathering up her light blue gown with silver thread work, trying with all her might to find her older sister.

They were playing a game of hide and seek, little Lucy's favorite past times-except when she was losing as she was now. She hated when her sister, Susan, was the one who hid because she always did an amazing job of it, sometimes making Lucy look for her for hours on end, or at least until their governess put a stop to it. Lucy never had the talent for hiding, never being able to keep still in one place for too long, but that didn't stop her from loving the game. It was one of the only times she got to be truly alone with her older sister, her one true friend in the whole world, and away from their oppressive Mama, the head of their house.

Lucy's gown was becoming stained with grass and dirt as she trudged deeper into the forest after Susan, but she paid no heed to it, no matter that her Mama would be angry with her for soiling her gown. She thought only of finding her sister and ending this game of hide and seek once and for all.

Deeper and deeper into the forest she went, trying to step as light as she could so as not to give her sister a hint as to where she was. Lucy searched every nook and cranny, behind every tree and through every bush, but there was no sign of Susan.

"Do you give up, Lucy?" Her sister called, far on the other side of the trees.

"Never!" Lucy screamed and went in the direction of Susan's voice. Their game was soon ended, however, by their governess. Countess Polliana came rushing up to them in the forest, holding her pearled hairnet in place as she ran.

"My ladies!" She called, stopping Lucy in her tracks and causing Susan to stand up behind the blackberry bush as dark as her hair that Lucy was standing in front of. Lucy gave a little harrumph at the look of victory on her elder sister's face but said nothing. "My ladies, your lady Mother requests your presence at once!"

Lucy and Susan shared a look of confusion, but did as their governess bid, following her out of the forest. Their mother, Duchess Helena of house Pevensie, owned several acres of grassy land, including a large part of the forest that Lucy and her sister came out of. On the grounds of land there were the servants quarters, the farmland where they grew all their own food, a lush rose garden which their family was famous for, and Briar castle, which sat on top of a crested hill.

Briar castle was an impressive thing: large stone drum towers and parapets, arched windows like the cathedrals in Narnia, an outer wall that included the battlements against any unlikely invaders, along with a large barbican in the front with a cherry wood gate, inscribed with the roses of their house.

Lucy and Susan followed their governess through the back passage, meant for servants and the like, and walked through the lower bailey where many of the servants were going about their daily work. Briar castle employed over three hundred servants, their jobs ranging from working the farm to helping the lady with the politics of keeping a castle.

As they walked with their governess, Susan looked over at Lucy and said, "You know Mother will be displeased with the state of your gown."

Lucy shrugged, trying to show indifference, but in truth she was a bit fearful. Their mother was quite the formidable woman, especially when she was displeased and she was displeased a lot when it came to Lucy. Susan was her golden child, the one with the makings of a true lady, gentle and full of grace, whereas Lucy had always been wild.

They made their way across the lower bailey and up the back entrance into the main keep, a large stone drum tower that was the first built and added upon throughout the years of the Pevensie's dynasty. Up at the very top of the keep was the solar, where their mother signed papers and other things for the upkeep of their home and family.

They hurried through several hallways and rooms, up a winding set of stone stairs, until they reached the wooden doors of their mother's solar. The guards standing at the door, dressed in their livery of gold and red, banged their staffs and the doors opened. One of the guards announced them.

"The ladies Susan and Lucy of House Pevensie, along with their governess, Countess Polliana."

Their mother, as always, sat behind her large desk, a stack of parchment in front of her. She wore a plain black woolen dress, a sign of mourning for their father, even though he had passed over a year ago. Her dark black hair was braided up and away from her face and covered with a white hair cloth, held in place by a golden circlet. Upon her neck was the only adornment on her person, a white chain which held her wedding ring and a locket which contained a portrait of her late husband.

Their mother was a severe woman, with ice-grey eyes that seemed to pierce the soul. She was raised this way by her late father, being his only child and heir. Unlike the neighboring countries, Spare Oom was one of the only ones that allowed women to inherit, so when her father died when she was aged sixteen, she inherited his lands, fortunes, and title: Duchess Helena of the House of Pevensie, Lady of Pevensie castle. She was allowed to marry whom she wished and she decided upon the second son of a lower house, an unlikely choice. Her husband and Lucy and Susan's father was something of an enigma, happily taking his wife's name as his own and fully embracing the House of Pevensie. They had loved each other fiercely, Lucy remembered. When he was still alive, their mother actually smile and often. There was no talk of the future when he was still alive and she was happy. When he died, however, all the happiness in her seemed to go with him and she grew cold and stern. She now spent every waking hour dedicated to the betterment of their house. At the age of seven, walking into her mother's solar, Lucy had no idea just how far her mother would go to seal the legacy of her house.

When Lucy and Susan first entered the solar, decorated from their grandfather's time with mounted stags and portraits of family members of old, along with tapestries from all over the world, including Calormen and Telmar, a neighboring country to the south, their mother had graced them with one of her small, rare smiles. It soon faded, however, when she saw the state of her youngest daughter.

Susan tried to save her sister by giving their mother a deep curtsy of deference, which Lucy followed suit, and they echoed the words like twins, "Good morrow, Mother."

Duchess Helena did not respond to them. Instead, she turned her head to their governess, her words full of ice. "Is this how you bring my youngest daughter to me? She looks as if she's been rolling around in the grass like a common peasant. A young lady such as herself should not be playing so rough in the woods. Susan, I thought you better than to encourage her."

Susan looked to the ground in shame and Lucy bit her lip to keep her tears at bay. She didn't understand, she was only seven. Shouldn't Lucy be allowed to be a child still? But neither of the girls said anything, nor did their governess.

"Governess Polliana, take Lucy to her rooms and have her changed out those soiled clothes. I must speak with Susan alone." She gestured to their governess to take Lucy away and Lucy went, after sparing a sorrowful glance at her sister before the great doors to solar separating her and her sister where closed shut.

Lucy spent the rest of the day in her bedchambers. She tried to distract herself from thoughts of what was transpiring between her sister and their mother by playing with her dolls or playing a game blind man's bluff with her governess, but it did little to help. Hours passed and her sister never resurfaced. Lucy wondered just what was it that kept her sister from her so.

At last, the sun began to go down which meant it was time for supper. Lucy brightened at that, sure she was to see her sister in the small dining hall and she could inquire about what happened there. No such luck, however. Lucy was left to dine with her mother alone, which meant in stony silence as Lucy picked at her roasted meats and sweets. After an hour of doing this, her mother had enough and sent her to her room for bed.

Lucy slunk back to her room, dejected that she still saw no sign of her sister. She was uncharacteristically silent as her handmaidens dressed her for bed in her linen nightgown. The drapes around her windows were pulled tightly shut for the night and all the candles except one by Lucy's bed were snuffed out. Lucy laid in her large canopy bed for what seemed like hours, her head filled with anxious thoughts about what had happened to her sister.

Just as Lucy was about to fall into an uneasy sleep, there came a knock at the door and she nearly leapt from her bed in shock. The knock sounded again and Lucy calmed, for she knew who it was by the sound. She and her sister had devised a knock to use amongst themselves when they wished to speak in secret; it was a gay little thing and it always made Lucy smile when she heard it.

Delighted, Lucy ran to her door and threw it open, revealing Susan in her own nightgown, holding a candelabra. Lucy was so happy to see her, but one look at her sister's face and she knew something was wrong. She looked wan and tired, her eyes red from crying, and Lucy silently let her in and closed the door behind her.

"I must speak with you," Susan said, sitting her candelabra down beside the bed. She pat the space next to her and Lucy sat beside her. Susan's hands immediately found her, gripping tightly.

Lucy was afraid.

"Susan? What's wrong?" She was scared to ask but she knew she must if she wanted to make her sister happy again.

Susan avoided the question at first. "I'm sorry I did not come to you sooner, Lucy, but I must admit I've been afraid. I've been in my room crying all day, overcome with nerves."

"Why?" Lucy whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

Susan looked off into the room for a moment, her eyes roaming over all the little things that made this bedchamber Lucy's: from the dolls that were arranged neatly in a scene of battle, to the abandoned effort at needlepoint by the window. Susan smiled sadly and said, "As you know, Mama wished to speak to me today." She stopped then spoke again, "About my future."

"What about your future?"

There was a long, pregnant silence, and Lucy thought her heart was about to beat out of her little chest when Susan finally spoke. "I'm to be married, Lucy."

A pause, then: "What?!" Lucy screamed, incredulous. Susan gently shushed her and Lucy continued on, quieter. "Why? When? To whom?"

Susan smiled a little at Lucy's questions. "I'm fourteen, Lucy and already flowered. It is high time for me to be married, or at least that's what Mama said."

"Wh-who are going to marry?" Lucy shivered. She only had seven more years until she too was likely to be married and she did not like the sound of that.

"Crown Prince Peter of Narnia; next May."

Lucy's childish eyes grew wide. "A prince? You're going to be queen?" She whispered, frightened of the implications that statement brought. By the look on Susan's face, she was frightened also. "You're going to leave? All the way to Cair Paravel?"

"Yes," Susan whispered, her eyes shining with tears.

"I don't want you to go," Lucy began to sob and Susan pulled her close, smoothing down her hair in a motherly gesture.

"Me neither," Susan said, and Lucy could hear tears in her voice though she kept them at bay. The sisters were so different in so many ways but Susan had always been Lucy's best friend since birth, her only true confidante in a castle controlled by Mama.

"Don't leave me alone with Mama," Lucy cried. "She doesn't love me like she loves you."

"Oh, Lu," Susan said, kissing my forehead. "She loves you, just as much as I."

Lucy didn't believe her but she said nothing. "I don't want to leave, Lucy, but I must. For the good of the family and our House. And one day, it will be your burden to bear."

"I do not want to marry," Lucy said. "I want to be free, forever."

Susan lightly laughed, choked a little by the tears in her throat. "I am afraid life does not work like that, little one."

"Life is unfair," Lucy mumbled.

"Aye," agreed Susan, "but one day, when you grow up, you'll learn to live with it, same as I."

Lucy pulled back and looked into her sister's eyes. "You do not seem very happy about it."

"You do not have to be happy about it, you just have to accept it. Accept it and endure. We women, we endure. And I believe, you will endure it most of all."


	2. TWO

Briar Castle

Spare Oom

4999

The next year passed much to quickly for Lucy's liking and she found herself increasingly upset as the months passed by with the speed of a jackal. Her birthday had came and went in the cold, wintery month of December and she was now another year older, but perhaps not another year wiser.

Lucy had hoped to spend as much time with her sister as possible until her upcoming nuptials, but that proved to be nigh on impossible. When Susan was not in lessons, she was with their mother, being taught in the ways of a life at court, as a future queen. She had had her portrait painted, dressed in the style of the Narnian court, which Lucy thought made her look silly with those towering braids and rouge on her cheeks.

Lucy never got the chance to play with her sister anymore, a fact that depressed her greatly. She missed running through the forest, hot on her sister's heels. She missed sneaking into the kitchen at night and stealing some bread and cheese for a midnight picnic on the grounds, but most of all, she just missed her sister. Her comforting presence by her side as Lucy raged about needlepoint lessons and the like. So now, Lucy spent most of her time with her governess, sitting in her own lessons, absolutely bored. She was not a very good student; she'd rather be distracting her governess with all the ploys she could use.

One day, in early February, as the days passed by all the more quickly but at the same time, all the more slowly, she was increasingly agitated by her lessons and wanted something to distract herself. She looked out the window of her bedchambers as her governess read to her from a large tome detailing the history of the world and watched as the sun peeked out behind the clouds that had brought snow intermittently for the past few months. Lucy had always enjoyed the snow. Years past, she and a few of her friends who were the children of servants in the castle would gang up on her Susan, hurtling snowballs until she herself scooped up some snow and fought back; she was always outnumbered, but Lucy remembered the way her flushed cheeks stretched into a happy smile, even as she was covered with the icy white fluff.

Lucy watched as the snow began to slightly melt and was suddenly overwhelmed with great trepidation at the upcoming spring, for she knew what it brought. She was brought out of her reverie as she watched the drops of snow drip down the branches of the apple tree outside her window by her governess, snapping the large tome shut.

"Little lady," her voice was full of reprimand. "Have you been paying _any_ attention?"

Lucy looked at her sheepishly from underneath her long lashes, batting her big, blue eyes. "Forgive me, governess," she said. "I got distracted by the snow melting and was imagining myself playing in it one last time before it's gone another year."

"You played in the snow just yesterday," her governess said, but Lucy could see that she saw the sadness in her eyes and she sighed. " _But_ ," she continued. "I suppose we _could_ venture out, for just a little while."

Lucy's saddened eyes must have brightened just a little, for her governess smiled and set down the tome on the plush red cushion on the bench they sat on inside the window. Lucy nearly ran for her wardrobe, where her handmaidens came and dressed her in her winter furs. She and her governess hastened outside and Lucy ran with delight in the melting snow, making poorly put together snowballs and lobbing them at unexpected passers by. She was having so much fun that she had nearly forgotten her woes-until-her eyes happened to look up at the castle and she spied her sister, watching Lucy from their mother's solar. She smiled a bit at Lucy, waving, and all of Lucy's troubles came crashing down upon her again.

Lucy's heart filled with dread as she thought that just in two and half months time, her sister would be taking her leave of Pevensie castle, and of Lucy, to embark on her future as queen of Narnia. Lucy was bereft to let her go, having spent many a night crying herself to sleep. Who was to protect her from mother once Susan was gone? Who was Lucy going to tell all of her secrets and who wasn't going to laugh at Lucy's games? What was Lucy going to do?

Lucy gave a halfhearted wave in return and turned to her governess, who was shaking melted snow from her pearled hairnet. "I wish to go back inside now," Lucy said, wiping the snow off her ermine gloves.

Countess Polliana looked up, surprised. "Already? But you have just begun to have your fun, Lady Lucinda."

"I am tired," Lucy lied, "and wish to go lay down."

Countess Polliana looked at Lucy but acquiesced, leading her back inside, tracking the melted snow on the floors until she was back in her rooms and in a tub full of warm water. Lucy sank deep beneath the water and wished that all of her cares would wash away with the cold and snow.

The time had finally run out and Lucy's sister was to depart, as was Lucy's nerves, although she was sure Susan's were even worse. They were in the middle of the heat of May and her sister was to depart early in the morning of the 18th, leaving Lucy only one more night to see her for perhaps the last time.

After Lucy was dressed in her thin nightgown for the night and all the candles but one blown out, she waited about an hour before taking her candle and sneaking out of her rooms. She crept through the castle until she reached Susan's door. She had once resided next to Lucy but in the past year, their mother had moved her closer to her so that she could have late night visits about her upcoming nuptials. Lucy was afraid that her mother would be in there that night, schooling her sister one last time and that Lucy would be sent away and scolded, but Lucy's fears were unfounded, for it was only her sister who in there, having opened the door at their secret knock. Susan sat by the windowsill, gazing out at the lush acres of their home for the last time. She saw the ruinous servant's quarters, the richness of the rose garden, the pigs, goats, and horses that slept in their pens. She could see the moon itself, shining a pure light over all these things, all the things that she had known all her life and all the things she'd have to leave behind.

"What are you doing?" Lucy asked after Susan bid her to come in.

Susan did not pull her gaze away from the window and beyond. "I'm saying goodbye."

Lucy felt tears well up in her eyes as she came to sit beside her sister, setting her candle down on the floor. The low flame cast a flickering light upon their faces, making them seem almost inhuman, but Lucy wasn't afraid. "I wish you didn't have to," she told her sister.

"Nor I," said Susan. "But I must, for the-"

" _For the good of the family_ ," Lucy interrupted, rolling her eyes childishly. She was sick of that credo.

Susan finally looked at her and smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. "One day," she said, "you will understand."

"I don't want to," Lucy grumbled, ever the petulant child. Her sister just smiled and looked away. For awhile they just sat there in silence, watching over the quiet grounds of the castle and contemplating their fates that seemed destined to separate from each other. Finally, Lucy spoke again. "May I sleep in your bed tonight, Susan?" Lucy did not care that she seemed like a frightened child; she wanted to be with her sister one last time, before both of their worlds changed.

Susan looked at her, _really_ looked at her, and smiled her first genuine smile in what seemed like a lifetime. "Of course, Lu," she said. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Lucy smiled wide, and nearly catapulted onto the featherbed, slightly bouncing under her weight. Susan laughed lightly and joined her, blowing out the remaining candles and wrapping Lucy up inside her arms.

Lucy felt safe there.

The next morning came and Lucy ignored the stern looks she got from the handmaidens as she was shooed from her sister's room so she could be changed into her gown and so could Lucy. They were to have a big ceremony, a marriage by proxy for Susan, followed by feast to rival those in Narnia and then, at dusk, she would depart in large berline for Cair Paravel, leaving Lucy behind-mayhaps forever.

My handmaidens dressed Lucy for the _exciting_ day as they called it in a gown of pink silk and golden accoutrements and her growing brown hair was braided away from her face with little golden clasps. She slipped into her little golden slippers and then was led away to the spinning room, where she was to spin upon a spinning wheel until it was time for the marriage by proxy at midday.

Lucy hated to spin at the spinning wheel; she was no good at it. And the ladies around her were not much good company. Her mother had invited all the lords and ladies from various powerful houses of Spare Oom to share in her daughter's revels- _and her accomplishment_. Lucy could hear the snivelling ladies and their daughters-some ugly, some pretty though not as beautiful as Susan-as they weaved and spun. The envy in their voices was about an inch thick; the only thing assuaging them was the fact that Duchess Helena's younger daughter was a fool's cause.

" _I wonder what kind of man the Duchess will convince to marry that sorry girl."_

" _I hear she's as wild as the animals in the forests, often spoiling her dresses and knotting up her spindle-look, there she does it now!"_

Lucy cursed as the yarn in her spindle began to knot up again and the ladies surrounding her gave her indignant looks at her choice of language. "Where, pray tell, does a young lady such as herself learn such foul language?" asked one of the older ladies; a snooty old hag in Lucy's opinion.

"From the stable boys," Lucy said and then she stood up and ran out of the spinning room before anyone could catch her. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, far away from those jealous ladies and their scathing words. _If this is what it means to be a lady, then I don't want it_ Lucy thought to herself. She didn't know where her feet were carrying her, but she soon found herself outside her sister's bedchamber door, which was slightly open. Hearing voices inside, Lucy peeped through the small opening.

There, standing before a large looking glass in a magnificent gown of the most pearlescent white, inlaid with pearls, was her sister. Behind her was their mother and she was speaking to her.

"-se to be afraid. This is your life from today, daughter. Embrace it."

"I will do what needs to be done for the good of the family, Mother, but that is not why I'm afraid. What is to become of Lucy once I am gone?"

Their mother's face grew grim. "She will continue in her studies," she said. "And by the grace of all that is holy she will learn, in time, what it means to be a lady, even if I have to beat the wildness out of her myself."

Despite their mother's words, Susan laughed. "I doubt very much that that will stop her. You cannot beat something out of someone that they are born with, Mother. Lucy will always be wild."

"But she cannot be!" Their mother suddenly raged and Lucy almost jumped back from the door in fear.

"Mother?" Susan asked cautiously, turning away from the looking glass. "Mother, what is it you haven't told me?"

Their mother fiddled with the locket around her neck, opening and closing it, as if the image of their father would give her the strength to find her next words. "When I made the deal with King James XXII of Narnia, you weren't the only daughter I was marrying off."

It felt as though ice cold water was poured down Lucy's back. She could barely make out her mother's next words, as if someone had plugged her ears full of cotton. "When Lucy comes of age, she is to marry as well-to prince Edmund." Lucy did not hear what she said next or what her sister said in response, for she was gone again.

She was running far, far away.


End file.
